Santi: The Devil's Pioneer

Chapter 68 - Part Two (Emman's Future)

Candy and I were settled in our comfortable chairs while relishing our brain-freezing drinks and, steaming saucy and excessively cheesy pizzas.

"My mother, goodness gracious! She drives me crazy!" Candance was saying in an exasperated voice with wide troubled eyes. "She eats everything. My fridge always looks like it's been robbed and then tortured for more food."

We were still on the topic of deranged mothers, it's never-ending and exhausting.

I could hardly sympathize with her since I was too busy laughing at the scene she painted for me.

Her mother, Victoria Glossier was an interesting yet mysterious personality. She was an artist, rumored to be Glossier owner's sister, and whose room was fundamentally an art sanctuary in Candy's former house. Although it seems she only emerges from it when in need of food. I have had the good fortune of running into her a few times when we started dating and to witness her artistic skills firsthand as she drove painted me from scratch It was truly something that deserved popcorn and applause and I was never the one to cower from such an instant.

"Stop laughing this is serious!" She told me and I ignored that demand.

"What should I do, Emman? It's like he doesn't realize that it takes a person to stock up the fridge, and god knows we'll both starve if I decided to depend on him." She sighed in dramatic dejection. "I should probably lose my gym membership, the trips to the grocery store are providing me with enough workout."

When I recovered from my laughing and was serious enough to offer a piece of advice I said, "Maybe you shouldn't buy her favorite food, like her personal cereal, frozen pizza, and the beef jerky he seems to like so much, let her suffer, that'll teach her a lesson."

"What?" she exclaims as she puts down her fork. I had chuckled at my sense of humor, but it turned out that it was not as amusing as I had assumed. "Would you like me to starve my mother?"

"No, that's not what I'm talking about," the confusion was eerie, and the misunderstanding was unusual. "All I'm saying is that if you're not going to address her about your problems, you should probably quit whining."

"Well, aren't you just a nasty little demon," she says angrily as she walks away from the table.

"That I am," I smiled, mistaking the attack for praise. My mind immediately returns to Santi when the word devil is spoken. It shouldn't have happened, yet it was like an instinct.

Candy whispered, "This is going to work. I'm sure it will," and we moved on from the subject.

Making up any situation more detrimental than they were, was a favorite pastime for us, and the fact that no one ever understood our jokes made it more hilarious for some reason.

We have been talking and laughing for more than an hour, catching up on each other's lives. "Anyway enough about me, what's with you lately, plan any more parties?"

I covered my face in my elbows on top of the tiny table as I screamed and groaned exaggeratedly. "What gives you such joy in my agony?"

"What are you trying to say? I see the makings of a fantastic project coordinator in front of me," she said, the cynicism in her voice clear.

She didn't respond; instead, she simply strolled by me, her movements much more certain.

"Can you tell me where you're heading now?"

" She irritated me to no end at times.

Candace spun around to face me after pushing open a pair of double doors in front of us.

"I feel it is self-evident that I will see whatever is in this chamber," she replied, disappearing down the black hole, and I cursed under my breath. Forget that, she was aggravating all the time.

"Would you want to return here?" I said as I started walking towards her. "I don't want you to be wounded, and the last thing I want is for you to trip over some floorboards!"

I came to a halt as I walked through the double doors and saw what was inside. The walls were lined with books, hundreds of them. Sunlight filtered in through the thick, worn drapes, casting a gentle glow across the room. Like fairy dust, tiny particles lingered in the sunbeams.

"I guess it would be handy for you if I fell into the depths of this home, never to be seen again," she drawled, drawing my full attention to her.

As the memories ran through my head, I gasped out, "What?" "Don't say stuff like that, darling," I murmured, shuddering.

She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the antiquarian books. "In one fell sweep, you may get rid of both me and the manor house."